Prelude for a Providence
by Darth Orack
Summary: This is a story I adopted from Little Miss Mione. Hopefully, this transition will be as seamless as possible.The rating may go up, but not for at least until Harry and Aubree are 16 or so... As always, please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Suppose Harry ran away from the Dursley's at age five

_Summary: Suppose Harry ran away from the Dursley's at age five. Suppose he didn't trust Voldie or Dumbles. Suppose he wasn't as dumb as people figured. Suppose he befriended Bellatrix's estranged daughter…_

"You're a real bastard, you know that?"

A raven haired, green-eyed youth raised an eyebrow lazily at the pretty yet slightly gothic looking girl in front of him.

"Who stuck a pole up your arse?" he quipped, a debonair air set about him, though he was wearing fairly worn out jeans and a quite large t-shirt for his lithe frame. "And I was not born out wedlock, thankyou very much."

The girl was adorned in a pair of plain black slacks and what appeared to be a white singlet, her thick, sable ringlets the only source of warmth on her person as they were draped, albeit haphazardly along her chest and down her frame until the hair had grown no more, which was to her elbows.

The nine year old girl spotted this insufferable four-eyes looking her up and down and snapped; "What on earth are you looking at? I'm not a pretty painting to be admired! If you've got somthin' to say, say it and be on your merry little way, you _runt!_" she spat, jibbing at this boy's lack of height. He was as tall as she was, and she was considered short for her age!

The boy, also nine years of wisdom tucked into his belt (Well, his belt that was once a very wealthy man's- fool, for not realising a nine year old homeless boy would be an expert pickpocket) narrowed his emerald eyes at the girl.

"Well at least I don't have a _fairy_ nose!" he taunted back, grinning wickedly in satisfaction as the girl took offence to the slur, if you could call it as such. Harry, the 'four-eyed bastard', as this girl called him, knew he could have done a much better job of insulting her.

But frankly, all he wanted was the shiny locket, and it was obviously this pretty little girl wasn't going to give it to him. Besides, he should be going soon if he wanted to find some form of shelter before it started to piss down rain.

As to justify his point, the green and grey sky released a lash of lighting and shook the ground with thunder.

The black haired girl put a hand over her nose protectively, and grabbed a lone shard of glass that was near the rubbish heap she had been sleeping on before this rogue came and tried to steal her silver locket, examining her nose.

_My nose is small! That stupid little runt was right! _

The girl cursed every God she knew of with every invective she knew as the heavens opened and rain feel down full and fast.

The sable haired girl looked at the boy; he looked like he was in the same predicament as her.

"Have you got a place to go?" she shouted over the pouring rain.

The boy stepped forward, blinking away the raindrops that had fallen behind his glasses lenses. He shook his head.

"No," he replied. "I'm guessing you don't either?"

The girl shook her head from side to side- 'No'.

Harry took the girl's hand in his own grasp.

"Look," he yelled over the rain. "We're both homeless, so why don't we just stick together? We'll find shelter more easily if there are two people looking."

The girl was not so easily persuaded, it perceived.

"If there are two of us, there'll be less space to fit in the shelter. What if there's only enough space for one of us?"

"We'll take our chances!" Harry replied. "Do you want to be alone in this storm?"

The fairy-nosed girl seemed to stuff her pride in her left pocket- just for the moment, anyways. "No," she retorted.

She wrenched her hand from Harry's grasp. "Okay, four-eyed bastard, I'll stick with you."

Harry smiled.

"But on one condition." she continued, and Harry's eyes widened at the prospect. The last time someone had said that to him he'd landed himself in a whole world of trouble…

"The condition being that I know your name."

Harry relaxed. "My name's Harry Potter."

The girl grinned, wiping her wet ringlets out her vision.

"I'm Aubree; Aubree Lestrange."

"And I you. Well, shall we, my dear Aubree?" asked Harry, mock bowing despite the pouring rain.

Aubree just grinned, clasping her hand into Harry's palm, dragging him along the alleyway.

She then turned around, with a devilish look in her deep eyes and said firmly,

"And let's get this straight, Potter; I do _not_ have a fairy nose!"

The two from then trudged on in the stormy and dangerous conditions never knowing that they were special, in many more ways than one

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A little while later...

"This is your idea of shelter?" asked Aubree incredulously as the sat neath the underside of a yellow plastic slippery dip. "A _playground?_"

Harry swept his vision over the small children's playground, complete with swing and see-saw. He badly wanted to tell Aubree that it was better than the pile of car parts and mouldy sandwiches she'd been sleeping on, but settled for something that would irritate her more.

"You know," he replied coolly, "_Aubree_ can be translated into _Elf Power_, and an elf is kin to _fairy_, in folk legend."

Aubree's left eye twitched. She would have nothing to do with prissy little fairies. Her role model was Amalasuntha, Queen Of The Goths.

"Well, I suppose I should be thankful they did not call me _Fae_ or anything." she replied, trying to ignore the jibe.

"They?" repeated Harry, not following.

"The awful people who ran the orphanage I used to live at."

"What happened to your parents?"

Aubree sent Harry a death glare, plainly telling him not to talk about it. "What happened to _yours_?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at the girl. She was really getting on his nerves!

"They died in a car crash," he replied simply, as if commenting her hair. "It's where I got this scar-"

Harry pointed to a lightning bolt shaped scar upon his forehead.

Aubree frowned. "I've seen that scar before!" she exclaimed, and began to rummage through her small pockets in her black slacks.

_What in the world is she looking for?_ Harry wondered.

The black haired lass pulled out a tiny piece of white paper with what seemed to be a series of tiny black dots scrawled upon it.

Aubree took in a deep breath while Harry shot her a quizzical look that she didn't see.

She bit her lip and looked at her new companion apprehensively.

"Ok, Potter, don't get freaked out…" she stated, trailing off.

Harry angrily muttered "Don't call me _Potter_!" but his anger changed into amazement as she waved her hand over the piece of paper and it glowed an unearthly purple colour.

It suddenly expanded to become a newspaper clipping.

But Harry wasn't shocked by this fact. He was more freaked out that when Aubree had done…whatever she had done; her left eye turned a bright amethyst. Quite a contrast seeing as her other eye was still ebony.

Harry stared at her, eyes wide in shock.

"Do you have _heterochromia_ _iridium_ by any chance?" he asked Aubree, as if he were asking her what time it was.

Aubree looked scared. "Heto-WHAT?"

"Oh, it's the…condition…where people have one eye a different colour."

"Do my eyes look a different colour to you, Potter?" snapped Aubree. True, her left eye had gone back to its ebony colour.

Harry's eyes started to prick and feel hot, and before he or his new 'friend' knew it, tears were streaming down his face.

"I said don't call me 'Potter', Aubree!" he cried. "My name is Harry, _Harry_!"

He then turned away from Aubree, blocking her completely from view and sniffled.

Aubree felt the train had jumped the tracks. He was more concerned about that fact that her eyes turned a different colour than the way she (for lack of better word) magically expanded a piece of paper.

Harry's sniffling stopped, and he quietly said, "Don't you mean for lack of practical word? Because as far as I know, magic isn't real, so 'magically' wouldn't be a very practical word. Of course, it's your choice whether to use 'better' or 'practical'..."

Aubree's jaw dropped; she stopped listening to this kid rant a few hundred words ago. But-how--

"How-what-I mean…I didn't say any of that stuff out loud, now did I?" she said, silently cursing herself for not being able to say a simple sentence coherently.

Harry wiped his eyes on the back of his hands, and readjusted his glasses after taking them off to wipe. "Like you can make that paper become larger…I can read people's thoughts. And put thoughts into people's heads."

At the young Lestrange's questioning look, Harry continued.

"Like once, when my Uncle was going to hit me, I just heard his thoughts as if he was speaking…and then I just thought _Please don't hit me_, and he looked dazed for a second and then didn't hit me anymore."

"You're Uncle hit you?"

"And you say…think…I miss the point! But, yeah, he did. So did my cousin… so I ran away, a few months ago, right on my ninth birthday. They never used to call me by my name, just 'Freak' or 'Boy' or 'Potter'..."

As Harry trailed off, they sat in silence for a bit.

_He's had a bad a time as me…_ thought Aubree, wondering if Harry could hear her thoughts…_how wicked…_

Harry ran a hand through his hair, and Aubree snapped her fingers.

"This is what I was enlarging before…" she announced, showing what once was a scrap piece of paper with black dots, and was now a newspaper, with the broad title;

_THE DAILY PROPHET_

Queries, concerns, reviews, flames, and theories are all welcomed.


	2. Chapter 2

Thankyou to the six of you who have reviewed

Thank you to everyone whom has reviewed, favorited, or alerted this story

as always, I am playing in JK Rowlings sandbox, and that of Little Miss Mionie

_Harry ran a hand through his hair and Aubree snapped her fingers._

"_This is what I was enlarging before…" she announced, showing what once was a scrap piece of paper with black dots, and was now a newspaper, with the broad title;_

_THE DAILY PROPHET _

Harry cursed this weather out loud to Aubree; their surroundings were too dim for them too read any font less bold than the title…

But before they could look at the rest of the article, a blonde haired boy came dashing through the park, wearing…

"Is that kid wearing a dress, Harry?" asked Aubree in slight disgust, worrying about the sanity of the boy. Without waiting for Harry to reply, she muttered, "What a faggot!"

Harry punched Aubree in the arm, and the she was surprised to note that it hurt like bloody hell.

"What was that for?" she cried. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to get need to some soap or something to wash your mouth out with," replied Harry, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You're nine years old; you shouldn't know those words, or what they mean!"

"Hark whose talking!" Aubree shot back, jabbing her finger into Harry's shoulder repeatedly, to emphasize the point. "You're the one, if I recall correctly, asked me 'who stuck a pole up my arse', so you can't talk about me needing to wash my mouth out with-"

Aubree and Harry both stared at Harry's outstretched hand in awe.

"_Soap_," muttered Aubree faintly. Harry just gulped, staring at the white bar in his hand and whispered;

"_How did a bar of soap get in my hand?!_"

Sure enough, there was a bar of soap in his hand. Harry and Aubree made eye contact.

"Um," Aubree started weakly, "…Magic?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "There's no such thing, Aubree Lestrange, as--"

"_Magic!"_

Harry and Aubree turned around to see the blonde boy running up to them. (Let it be noted that the blonde boy was the one that called out 'Magic!', for all those who didn't quite catch on…)

Harry faintly registered that it had stopped raining; the storm had somehow gone away completely and the sun was now providing a lot of light…

Aubree seemed to be a little hysterical, and Harry was not far behind her.

"Harry…!"

"Yes, Aubree?"

"You wished that the weather was better didn't you?"

"…Yes…but you don't think that…that _I_--"

The two nine year old did something that Harry thought only that sitcom _The Brady Bunch_ that Aunt Petunia always watched could do that thing how they all traded looks at different times, but it seemed that even the genius that was Harry Potter could be proven wrong.

And it was done so by Harry and Aubree taking time to quickly look at each other and the great flaming orb in the sky.

Harry suddenly noticed that the fair-haired boy was getting closer to them.

"Aubree!" cried Harry, picking up the… 'Daily Prophet', or so it was called… and thrusting it to her ruthlessly. "Hide it!" he quickly said; he didn't want some other kid looking at it.

Aubree seemed to think the same thing, and she quickly held onto the paper with both hands, and the purple glow once again formed around the paper and her palms.

If Harry wasn't watching it with his own too slightly impaired eyes (but he had his glasses to fix that problem, so it must've been true…) he would not have believed what he saw.

Aubree closed her eyes, and the next moment the paper changed shape into an azure coloured pixie-shaped hair clip, which she hastily pinned to her pretty black locks.

Harry gave her and funny sort of look, to which she retorted, "Potter, you've put fairies on my brain."

They both turned around to see the blonde haired boy standing in front of them.

"Hello," he said, regally. Harry didn't like the look of this kid; nor did Aubree, it seemed.

"Hi," greeted the two protagonists in unison.

"Did you use your wand to summon that soap out from my cloak?" the boy asked.

"Wand? Summon?" repeated Harry, confused to say the least.

"Oh, drat," said the boy, eyeing Aubree and Harry now as though they were pieces of waste, his pointed nose held high. "You two must be _Muggles_…"

The boy spat the word, as if it were…_soap suds in his mouth_.

Harry was just about to question the boy with "What the heck are 'Muggles'?", but Aubree interrupted, inquiring;

"What on earth were you doing with a bar of soap in your…cloak, you call it?" eyeing the dress…thingy in distaste. She'd be damned if she'd ever wear a dress!

"I stole it from a shop, along with other things," he supplied proudly.

Aubree and Harry nodded, prompting the boy (whom they already very much loathed) to continue.

"And my name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Draco, as Harry and Aubree now knew him as, pompously inquired of them:

"And what are your names?"

Harry closed his eyes as if in pain. That deduction was not far from the truth, though; he was merely uncomfortable. He just _couldn't_ tell Draco his name; what if (though it was highly unlikely) the Dursley's had reported him missing?

Harry snapped open his eyes, and wished that time would just stop, if only for a moment-

Aubree was staring at Harry like he had grown an extra head. Okay, like he had grown _two_ extra heads.

"What?" asked Harry, absently checking himself over, abruptly feeling very insecure.

Aubree pointed to Draco Malfoy, who wasn't blinking at all…or breathing…and then to the trees that were frozen in mid-sway, and a black kitten that was stuck in mid pounce over on the other side of the playground.

"Oh," was all that Harry could muster to say.

Aubree replied by screaming frenziedly (Harry thought she was going to have a conniption); "DID YOU HAPPEN TO WISH FOR TIME TO STOP?"

_Damn_, mused Harry, _I know this girl for an hour and she already knows me better than I know myself! _

Harry shrunk under Aubree's fiery gaze, and with good reason; her left eye had turned vivid purple again.

"Only momentarily…" Harry said in a small voice, and Aubree groaned.

"Well, 'momentarily', that's alright then!" the young Lestrange snapped sarcastically.

"C'mon," she muttered, casting a feverish look at the still frozen Malfoy. "We have to get out of here, fast…"

Aubree grabbed Harry's hand, shooting him a determined look.

And then all of a sudden, a great white blinding light obscured their vision. A light breeze seemed to pass by them, and when their vision cleared, they found themselves far, far away from the Playground.

Aubree quickly hid her glowing violet hands behind her back so Harry wouldn't see.

They seemed to be in some sort of shopping district, which was buzzing with colours and life. Harry guessed that the time-stop must've stopped working.

He looked up at a nearby sign that had emblazoned upon in 'Diagon Alley'.

_What is this place? _

Harry then traded a look with Aubree, and hastily said; "I didn't do it! Magically transport us, that is."

His companion's expression softened and she revealed her hands, upon which the glow was slowly diminishing. "It was me…" she confessed quietly. "It's not the first time I've done it, either."

But before Harry could give a shocked reply, Aubree exclaimed:

"_Ah-ha_! You said magically transported- so you do believe in magic now, huh?"

And then before Harry could reply to that, Aubree started to talk again.

"Oooh look Harry! An ice-cream store! We should get some ice-cream, and then we could read the paper that I started to show you!"

Harry sighed_. I_ _wouldn't mind an ice-cream myself- plus I wanna see that Daily Prophet paper…_

"Okay, then," agreed The (unbeknownst to him) Boy-Who-Lived.

"Good!" cheered Aubree, her curly black locks blowing in the slight breeze as she grinned at her new friend. "…But how will we get the money for ice-cream?"

Now it was Harry's turn to grin.

"I know exactly how."

Dumbledore sighed as he idly patted his red and gold Phoenix, Fawkes.

Little Harry Potter had been missing for months, and he had only just found out!

It seemed that his relatives, The Dursley's, had been under some type enchantment, as they hadn't noticed their nephew's non-existent presence at all.

But what confounded Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was the fact that the enchantment could not be traced back to the caster.

So obviously Harry had been kidnapped or something of that sort. He was only nine; he couldn't have possibly had the sense to run away to nowhere; didn't all those little lads just run off to the circus?

In any case, Dumbledore knew he had to find Harry. The boy would not be able to defend himself.

As he silently watched Fawkes fly away, Albus wondered if his beloved bird would be able to find the Boy-Who-Lived.

Because Harry James Potter seemed to be untraceable.

Aubree's eyes perked up and she listened intently to Harry as they hid behind a huge dumpster, where no-one could see them.

"…so, all we gotta do is change our appearance." continued Harry. "Can you do that for both of us?"

Aubree bit her lip, thought for a moment, and then nodded, agreeing. She placed her left hand on Harry's head, and her right on her own head.

Harry watched intensely as Aubree's left eye turned purple once again, and felt as his whole body was rearranging itself.

Which, may it be noted, is a very odd sensation to be going through.

Aubree drew her hands away, and Harry smiled. Aubree looked completely different.

She had short cropped blonde hair with two bright purple eyes. She had made herself look taller and older too; she looked to be about fifteen.

Harry wondered how he looked. "Is there a mirror somewhere around here?" he asked.

Aubree smiled, and clicked the tiny latch on her heart shaped locket open as she pulled it out from underneath her shirt. Harry's eyes brightened a she opened it to reveal a tiny mirror.

She pointed it in Harry's direction and he observed himself.

He too had bright purple eyes, and had dusty brown hair. He looked look a six year old. Harry frowned.

"Why'd you change our heights?" he inquired.

Aubree smirked evilly, which looked pretty intimidating seeing as she looked about nine years older than Harry.

"But I didn't change your height Harry!"

Harry narrowed his eyes at Aubree. "You know, _Aubree_, we need to have fake names too. For you I was thinking _Fae_…"

Aubree snapped her fingers, groaning. "Fine, Harry, you win." Harry noticed that her voice sounded older too. "Well…you can be…Roger, then."

"_Roger_. Are you _SERIOUS_?"

"Very. What about our last name?"

Harry looked around the shopping district, looking for inspiration. He spied a nearby bank.

"How about Roger and Fae Gringotts?" he suggested. Aubree nodded, agreeing.

Then Harry AKA Roger told Aubree AKA Fae '_The Plan'_.

Goblins ran around hurriedly all across Gringotts Bank. Frantically one might say. Today was the day that the Gringotts heirs were coming to visit.

They wouldn't want anything to go wrong.

'Fae' watched 'Roger' walk up to a very large, exceedingly wealthy looking man.

He widened his eyes in a manner that was reminiscent of a puppy dog, tapped the man on the shoulder, crying and screaming "I want my sister! _I want my sister_!"

And Aubree silently watched Harry 'Roger', waiting for him to work his magic, and waiting for her cue.

In a dark and dank cell on a tiny gloomy island, a woman with black hair cried.

She cried for the daughter she had never gotten the chance to know, and for the daughter that no-one, not even her husband knew about.


	3. Chapter 3

Last time in Prelude For A Providence

Last time in Prelude For A Providence...

_Fae' watched 'Roger' walk up to a very large, exceedingly wealthy looking man. _

_He widened his eyes in a manner that was reminiscent of a puppy dog, tapped the man on the shoulder, crying and screaming "I want my sister! I want my sister!"_

_And Aubree silently watched Harry 'Roger', waiting for him to work his magic, and waiting for her cue. _

Harry thanked the heavens and Yahweh (his old school teacher was Hebrew and often thanked or cursed God in her language, and so he often used this too) that this large, rich man was so short-- Harry could stand on his tippee-toes and reach the man's shoulder to jab.

The large man looked bewildered at the crying child. Where on earth were his ruddy parents?

The man tried to put on a sweet tone. "Do you know what your sister looks like? And what's your name, kid?" he asked gently.

"My sister has b-blonde h-hair and p-purple eyes and she's-- she's sixt-t-teen. My name is R-Roger…" Harry sobbed, cursing Aubree to the fiery depths of hell for giving the name Roger. It just didn't suit him!

The man sighed, pitying the little kid. "Look, kid, ah…I'll help you find your sister. What's your last name?"

"Gringotts…"

Horace Slughorn eyed the small kid- Roger Gringotts! _Gringotts_! Like he was worth a million galleons.

Which wasn't far off the mark; The Gringotts Heir and Heiress's together were worth billions of millions of trillions of galleons.

Horace smiled. If he returned this kid to his sister, and took them to Gringotts, where they were expected to go…

Merlin's Beard, all the _publicity _he'd receive! And _crystallised_ _pineapple!_

Horace's smiled became even wider. _Excellent._

..::ooOOOoo::..

Harry made a feverish gesture behind his back to Aubree that clearly said 'Come here, quick!'

This guy…Horace Slughorn, if he'd recalled the man's fantasy of people praising him correctly, was going to use Aubree and himself.

Which wasn't very fair; they were the ones that were meant to be using him, not the other way around!

And this Horace man had a strange fascination with crystallised pineapple, whatever that was.

Aubree suddenly stalked out as she observed Harry, with his super-cool mind powers, made the big man grab him by the scruff of the neck, holding him tight there.

Aubree put on a furious expression, running up to the big man, screaming;

"Let _go_ of my brother, you…"

_Child Molester_, Aubree heard a voice inside her head say, and she realised it was Harry.

"Child Molester! Let him go right this second or I'll…_call the cops on you_!"

Harry made the meaty fist drop him, and Harry stepped on the man's foot, crying loudly as Aubree kept on screaming about calling the police.

..::ooOOOoo::.

Horace Slughorn was confused. What on earth were '_cops'_?

And-- _OW!_ That ruddy kid just stepped on his foot! And now he was crying!

This was not good…all this commotion was drawing a crowd…

..::ooOOOoo::..

Aubree decided to slap the fat man hard across the cheek.

She hadn't slapped someone since she'd left the orphanage.

How good it felt to physically harm someone again!

She kept on verbally abusing the man until loads of people…who were _all_ wearing dresses… looked upon the scene with great interest, and Harry had successfully pick pocketed this great oaf of a man.

Bidding Horace Slughorn an ungraceful farewell, they stalked off, only to be confronted by a man with red hair in a small ponytail and a black hoop earring that looked to be in his early twenties.

Aubree subconsciously grasped Harry's hand tightly. This man was so tall!

He gave them a warm smile, and the two relaxed a little. He seemed nice enough.

"Hello," he greeted cheerfully, "My name's Bill Weasley; I usually work at a Gringotts branch in Egypt, but have moved back to England for a few months. I'm terribly sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear that you two are from the family of Gringotts?"

Aubree looked down at Harry, and flipping her blonde hair back as she looked at Bill.

"Yes, we are. My name is Fae, and my little brother here is Roger. Why do you ask?"

Bill smiled again, showing some flawless teeth.

"I'm going to show you around the bank you two are heirs to, and take you to your vault."

"Vault?" squeaked Harry.

Bill just nodded, and led them to the bank.

Aubree and Harry traded glances_. What on earth did he mean by vault?_

And that's when it hit them. Gringotts was a bank. They were the 'heirs'.

Aubree grinned. They'd be swimming in money soon!

_Wrong_, Aubree heard Harry's voice flutter into her thoughts, _they'll probably ask us for some kind of proof. _

Aubree mentally groaned. _We are in some serious deep trouble_.

_Language_! Reprimanded Harry. _But yeah, you're right_.

'Fae' and 'Roger', as they stepped inside the very intimidating bank, gulped at the inevitable prospect of being caught.

Until Aubree caught sight of the things that resembled badly mashed potatoes with ears and bifocals, and started to laugh out loud so heartedly that her eyes started to water.

..::ooOOOoo::..

Harry grinned as he licked his choc-banana-pineapple-vanilla ice-cream. "I can't believe we got out of that!"

**..::o Flashback o::..**

Bill led them up to one of the mashed potato things (Goblins, they were called, as he had informed them only moments earlier one Aubree had managed to dissolve her giggles) and the Goblin asked for their vault key.

Before Harry could answer, much to his irritation, Aubree replied foolishly, "We don't have a key."

Harry sent Aubree a death glare. She had the uncanny habit of stopping him from answering.

_Which_, Harry mused, _isn't always a good thing. _

The Goblin narrowed his beady eyes at them, and said in a very intimidating voice, "You are not the Gringotts heirs."

Harry bowed his head a little but Aubree didn't even have the grace to look a bit ashamed.

"No, we're not. But he-" she jerked a thumb back at Harry, "Is Harry Potter, so…._please don't hurt us…"_ Aubree finished somewhat lamely.

Harry frowned. How was his name going to make any difference?

Bill also frowned. "He doesn't look like Harry Potter."

Aubree placed her hands on Harry and her head and let the disguise fall. Bill muttered something that sounded like, "Sweet Merlin!"

Bill then turned to Aubree. "Are you really his sister? I'm guessing by your height that you aren't sixteen."

Aubree smirked, and Harry looked impressed. Aubree knew how to get herself out of trouble without even trying!

"Harry and I are both nine, and my name is Aubree Lestrange. Now, if you would kindly not _kill us_----"

"Lestrange?" repeated Bill, his eyes suddenly narrowing at Aubree.

The black haired girl sent the redhead a quizzical look.

"Yes."

"Do you…ah…know who you're parents are?"

Aubree's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "No. I grew up in an orphanage. Do _you_?"

Bill's eyes widened a little, but only Harry noticed. "No, no, I don't," he said hastily.

The Goblin cleared his throat. "Why were you two impersonating the Gringotts heirs?"

"We weren't sir." explained Harry. "Not intentionally, anyway." If Bill was surprised at the nine year old for knowing such a word, he didn't show it. "You see…"

Thank Yahweh that Harry was good at fabricating lies.

"…My family- that is, my, uncle, aunt and my cousin, had taken us to Diagon Alley to browse around the shops for a few hours. My cousin dared Aubree and me to steal from that Slughorn man…and we just took the last names from our surroundings."

Bill chuckled. "You sound like two of my brothers, Fred and George…they're always up to no good."

Harry smiled at Bill, and turned back to the Goblin, saying business-like, "I'm sorry for any inconvenience that has occurred from this, Mister Goblin sir. But while I pick pocketed Horace Slughorn…I found something that might be of service to you…"

"You know," Bill wondered aloud, "The way you talk, I'd expect you to go to Ravenclaw, but now I'm thinking Slytherin…"

As Harry rummaged through his pockets, not hearing what Bill had just said, Aubree stared open mouthed at Bill. Ravenclaw? Slytherin?

What drugs was this man ON?

Harry opened his palm to reveal a small bag of money.

"We saw someone coming out of the bank slipping this to him."

Aubree was about to protest-- they didn't see the fat man be given a bag of money at all! But Harry, sensing this, let his voice penetrate Aubree's thoughts;

_I'm lying, Aubree. They already thought it was amazing that you could do that stuff with your hands. If they found out I could read minds-- what if they captured us or something? _

_Oh. Aubree had never thought of that…but she felt, and she knew Harry felt it too-- these type of people were the people that the belonged to!_

The Goblin's eyes widened at the stolen money. "It appears we have a leak in the system. Thank you very much for this. Is there anyway we can repay you, at all, Mr Potter, Miss Lestrange?"

Harry was about to answer, but Aubree cut him to the chase.

"A place to stay would be nice!"

Bill frowned. "I thought you were with Harry's family…'

"Oh," Harry gushed, "We are, we just…"

"Harry's family are meeting relatives, and they don't want them to see Harry or I.." started Aubree lamely.

"They're Muggles?" inquired Bill.

"YES!" cried Aubree and Harry in a desperate attempt to get a straight story.

The two protagonists were thinking the same thing; _what the heck was a muggle? _

The Goblin smirked. "Of course, we'll get you a room at the Leaky Cauldron, free of charge."

Harry and Aubree beamed.

"Thanks!"

"I better get going," interrupted Bill. Harry rummaged through his pants pockets once again and handed something to Bill; it looked like a shark's tooth earring.

"This is for you, Bill...I'm guessing we can always cash in a favour from you?"

Bill took the earring and stared at it in amazement. "This is a Peruvian Vipertooth Dragon Fang! These-- these are really rare! I, well, Thankyou! And you can cash in a favour anytime, for anything!"

Harry smirked. Aubree whispered to him, "What are you doing?"

"Getting some allies. Everyone needs them. Besides, Slughorn was thinking about how priceless this fang was…so I stole it. But I didn't know it was a Dragon's! Wow, Bree! Imagine a real Dragon!"

Aubree laughed as Bill showed them to their room at the Leaky Cauldron and bid them a cheerful goodbye,

"So, we know each other for twelve hours or more and you already shorten my name to Bree?"

"What, you don't like it?"

"No, Harry, it's nice. But only you can call me that."

"What about…Fair-bree, ay? Like fairy?"

Harry was then attacked by Aubree and a big, white fluffy pillow that had once occupied a single bed in the room that they would be staying in.

**..::o End Flashback o::..**

Aubree happily munched the last bit of her strawberry coconut apple ice-cream as she stretched her legs out on her bed.

Harry, having finished his long awaited ice-cream a few minutes ago, decided he wanted some answers.

"Aubree?"

"Hmm?"

"Where did you grow up?"

"My Mum left me at an orphanage when I was about a week old. Dunno why, and I don't know who she is, either. When I was five I escaped my minders…that Orphanage was awful, no-one liked me. And ever since then I've lived on the streets."

Harry felt like a light bulb suddenly went on in his head. "Aubree! The Newspaper clipping!"

Aubree grinned. "Alright. But after, can we go to sleep? It's what, nine at night already, and I actually can have a shower now…heaven knows what I smell like…and it's been a huge day…"

Harry covered a yawn as Aubree got the clipping out, silently agreeing for some much needed sleep.

..::ooOOOoo::..

_THE DAILY PROPHET _

_YOU-KNOW-WHO DEAD!_

_On this very night, Harry James Potter…_

_..::ooOOOoo::.._

Harry felt like he was going to cry. Either that, or murder the Dursley's.

"My parents…" he whispered, "They-they never died in a car crash…

"I hate my Uncle! I can't believe he lied about how they died! I HATE him!"

Aubree was frightened. She was only nine, remember; she couldn't truly imagine fully loathing someone.

"You mean," asked Aubree quietly, putting a consoling hand on Harry's shoulder, "You…don't love your Uncle?"

Harry brushed a tear away and snorted at this question.

"Of course I don't. I don't love Vernon Dursley."

..::ooOOOoo::..

At that very moment that those words were uttered, a fat, big moustached man by the name of Vernon Dursley suddenly stopped reading the paper as he was sitting in his living room at number Four, Privet Drive.

His vision had suddenly become blurry. His hands were shaking. He felt nauseated, and cold, like a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped on him.

And, as thought a thousand poisons had been mixed together and Vernon had drunk them, the worst pain imaginable racked Vernon's insides.

Beside the newspaper, TV remote, slumped on his expensive lounge, was Vernon Dursley, most certainly dead.

..::ooOOOoo::.

_Kudos for Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them for the Dragon name._

Harry blearily opened his eyes at the tapping noise that was coming from his right. He yawned, and hopelessly groped for his glasses. Once finding them and putting them on, he looked towards the source of the noise; the window.

Harry yelped in surprise at what he saw.

..::ooOOOoo::..

Petunia held a shrieking Dudley in her arms as she struggled to stop the panic raging inside her as the policeman said a solemn goodbye, and his condolences '_at the lost of your husband, Mrs Dursley._'

Vernon Dursley had died some twelve hours earlier; both Petunia and Dudley had decided to have an early night, while Vernon stayed up. They hadn't heard him fall to the floor.

The Ambulance officers had said that he'd had some sort of seizure-- but they couldn't identify the cause, and would have to wait for further testing.

Tears fell rapidly from Petunia's eyes as neighbours looked out of their windows from behind their expensive curtains at the sound of an ambulance siren, a shrieking boy and a near hysterical mother.

Dudley wailed loudly; he'd never been so angry and sad in his life.

Someone had done this, he was sure of it! His father was strong, he couldn't just die by accident! He looked up with pure hatred at the dawn sky, and as he did so, the glass windows and irreplaceable china of number Four, Privet Drive imploded, shattering into millions of tiny pieces…

..::ooOOOoo::..

Dumbledore frowned.

He had owned Fawkes for nine years, ever since the young Phoenix had been born out of the ashes for the first time. And in those nine years, he had never known Fawkes to take so long with finding someone…

..::ooOOOoo::..

Looking through the glass, He sighed.

His name was Nikolas. Nikolas-- _No!_ He daren't call himself by that last name, even to himself while he was in this form.

Nikolas admired his pretty golden eyes, his red hair and tanned skin in the reflection the glass as he waited for someone to notice him…

After all; he was on a mission.

..::ooOOOoo::..

A blonde haired girl leant against her father, her eyes squeezed shut. She'd known this was going to happen; she'd _Seen_ it.

But even though she's seen her die, Luna Lovegood wouldn't dare look at her mother's coffin.

..::ooOOOoo::..

Aubree came out of the bathroom just as she was finished washing her face to see Harry cry out in alarm and surprise. She turned to where he was looking, and decide that Harry had good reason to yelp.

There was a winged boy standing outside their window.

..::ooOOOoo::..

So: Dudley made things shatter, Dumbledore's concerned, Luna's been mentioned, there's a boy called Nikolas with golden eyes and there's a boy with wings tapping on Harry and Aubree's window.

What do you make of that?

Reviews are appreciated! And so is ideas (I'm a big feedback junkie)


	4. Chapter 4

Last Time In Prelude For A Providence...

_.::ooOOOoo::.._

_Aubree came out of the bathroom just as she was finished washing her face to see Harry cry out in alarm and surprise. She turned to where he was looking, and decide that Harry had good reason to yelp._

_There was a winged boy standing outside their window._

_..::ooOOOoo::.. _

Harry's sharp, intellectual green eyes surveyed this…being…while Aubree was utterly agape.

"Are you going to let him in?" asked Harry quietly, as his black haired companion was nearest to the door.

Aubree looked flustered. "No, _No_, I'm _not_, Harry! What if he's dangerous!"

"He only looks to be a couple of years older, Bree."

"And he probably moults, too! And has claws--"

"Talons," corrected Harry, and Aubree raised a clenched fist.

"Would you like this to connect with your head? You seem to be taking this all very calmly!"

Harry again looked at the boy with magnificent red wings outside, on the other side of the window.

"I think he should put a shirt on, it must be awfully cold out there without one on."

"He has claws-"

"-Talons-"

"-And you are worried about his health." stated Aubree wittily. "Shouldn't we be worried about the mental problem you seem to have?"

Harry was quiet for a moment, and then said with a funny expression on his face, "I don't think nine year olds are meant to know what a mental state is."

Aubree pondered this statement, and answered; "No, I don't suppose they are. Oh well, we must some sort of--"

But whatever some sort of thing Harry and Aubree are, we are to never find out.

For the bird-boy crashed through the window, landing on the wooden floor with a dull _thump_.

..::ooOOOoo::..

Nikolas looked up at Harry and Aubree with curious, brilliant golden eyes.

"Hello," he said pleasantly.

Aubree was on the verge of becoming hysterical, _again_, Harry noticed from a sideways glance at her. _Better do something about that. _

_Don't get hysterical, Bree! he thought, concentrating on Aubree, squeezing his eyes shut only for a minute._

"Hi," said Harry shyly.

Aubree, who seemed to not be hysterical anymore, but extremely angry, fired;

"Why the bloody hell did you decide to crash through our window?"

"Aubree!" scolded Harry. "Language!"

Aubree turned on Harry. "I may have never had mother, Harry, but if I did, I'm sure she'd sound just like you! Now, let me question Mister Bird-Brain here!"

Harry honestly didn't know whether to take offence for being compared to Aubree's mother.

..::ooOOOoo::..

A million miles away, Bellatrix Lestrange probably would have taken offence for being compared to the little boy who brought her master down.

_Probably_.

..::ooOOOoo::..

"So, what you are trying to tell us that some guy with a _reaaaaallly_ long beard is looking for Harry, and sent you, a ten year old boy who can change into a red Phoenix, to deliver a letter to him and tell him to come to his school. Oh, and you hate this long-bearded man because he took you away from your forest?" asked Aubree, repeating all that the boy had told them.

Nikolas Fawkes mulled this over, and then nodded. "Yup, that's about it."

Harry shrugged a non-committal shrug. "S'all fine with me. I'm Harry by the way. Miss Interrogation over there is Aubree."

As Harry and Nikolas shook hands, they didn't hear Aubree mutter under her breath, '_Serious__ mental problems_!'

"How about we go for a walk after breakfast?" suggested Nikolas. "There's this little clearing we can sit and talk."

"Can you do anything about those wings?" questioned Harry.

Nikolas nodded. "Yeah."

He then ruffled his fire-red hair, winked his right eye, and with a ruffle of feathers, the wings dissolved into his tanned skin until they look like extra bones on his back.

Harry was in awe.

Every day things just seem to be getting weirder and weirder…

'Twas a pity that our poor protagonist didn't know that in yeas to come things would be a lot more than just weird….

..:::ooOOOoo::..

Harry, Aubree and a shirt-wearing Nikolas found themselves stumbling across a sobbing dirty-blonde haired girl, who looked to be their age as they walked to where this supposed clearing would be, just outside of Diagon Alley.

The girl seemed to be muttering to herself.

"…Can't believe I got lost…oh, Daddy will be so worried…what will I do…?"

The girl looked up at them with a tiny 'Oh!' of comprehension that someone had interrupted her crying. She sniffed, and raised her head from her hands.

Her big eyes were wide as a smile crept upon her thin face. "Hello."

Harry, Nikolas and Aubree traded wary glances, before replying in unison; "Hello yourself."

They then began to befriend a girl the same age as Aubree and Harry, by the name of Luna Lovegood.

..::ooOOOoo::..

"Well, Aunt Trelawney…I don't believe she's a real seer." continued Luna as the trio listened raptly, "I mean, she has her moments…but…well, I get them all the time…"

All of a sudden, something flashed in Luna's eyes and she stared at Harry and Aubree eerily, unblinkingly. He voice became detached and cold sounding and she gasped before her eyes took on a white glow.

Her mouth opened, and she spoke words with an air of confidence and utter belief in them.

"Those with pure hearts in the fifth year,

What you seek is lurking near.

The answers that you just might find,

May be obscure, lost in time.

Her providence is determined by her will,

While his, for her sake, must be fulfilled.

Prophecies; words, determining fate,

Alas the choice to follow is but a rare trait.

As fate meddles he leaves a clue;

Go back to where you began; your prelude."

And then Luna promptly fainted. Harry and Aubree took no notice as they turned to one another.

"She just made a prophecy! About us!" cried Harry flabbergasted.

"That sounds like a load of Hogwarts, Harry."

"Don't you mean hogwash?"

"Hogwarts…ha. Wonder where I got that from?"

"I don't know! But--"

"But…we aren't five, Harry. It said _fifth year_. So the prophecy can't be about us!"

"What about me?" pouted Nikolas. "It didn't say anything about me!"

Luna slowly stirred, and Nikolas jumped at the chance.

"Hey, Luna! Why wasn't I in this prophecy?"

..::ooOOOoo::..

In the city of Tiranë, Albania, a cloaked figure wearing a turban laughed appreciatively.

"Milord, it can be done."

..::ooOOOoo::..

**TBC….**

A/N: I feel the whole Luna bit was a bit rushed. Hmm, oh well, you'll get the full story next chapter…

Hope you all enjoyed this one; reviews/flames/criticism is always welcomed.

Oh, and Tirane is the capital of Albania. Which is in Europe. Oh yeah, who did their research? That's right_, I_ did my research.

Nikolas is meant to be spelt that way…what do you think of the prophecy? Made by _Luna_?

Should Harry and Aubree trust Luna's 'words of wisdom'? She _is_ known for believing in crazy stuff.

I do apologise for rambling irreverently.

Love, LMM.

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